A/N: Here we go. A little bit ago after I posted a one-shot on my tumblr someone mentioned how it would be interesting to explore Ty's past relationships before Heartland. I agreed. Now, my mind is very Amy-oriented, meaning I can get inside her head much easier than I can Ty's. However, I decided this was too good of an idea to pass up. So begins Ty Chronicles. What this is going to be is a collection of one-shots (maybe some short stories 1-3 chapters, we'll see how things go) of Ty's experiences with women, girlfriends, etc, dating from before his time in juvie until he gets sent to Heartland (and one or two during that time).
I'm going to place a tentative PG-13 rating on the Chronicles as a whole, because there are a few things I want to cover that might border… explicit, but if it goes beyond PG-13, I'll make sure to properly trigger that specific story.
I'm going to try try to keep them in chronological order (that's what Chronicles are supposed to be) but my mind doesn't necessarily like to work that way, so I'll make sure to inform you of the order of things each time something new is posted. Mk?
So, for right now, this is just a prologue talking about Ty's past and a lead in to the first story. So… I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave feedback, or even ideas if you have them since I don't have everything completely hashed out. It's just going to come as it comes. Also note that I am going to try and keep details as accurate as possible. I've gone back and watched specific episodes to have notes on Lily and Wade and Ty's backstory, but bear in mind that I'm only human and may not get everything correct all of the time. This is fanfiction after all. Enjoy.
Skipping school was a daily habit by the time I began high school. I was more careful in middle school, coming in with notes for early release that my mom signed in her drunken stupors, having no idea what they were for but yelling at me none the less for bothering her with such things. In high school I couldn't give two shits about walking out of the building in the middle of the day. I didn't care who saw me and only dared them to try and stop me. I thought my precious time was being wasted in that hell hole, with people I didn't care to socialize with. I simply couldn't be bothered. I was a pretty smart cookie, though. And while I neglected to do homework (most of the time never knowing I even had any or what the assignment was), did well on my exams. The ones I showed up for, anyway.
My days were better spent smoking cigarettes, occasionally a few joints, and sipping on beers with the few cool friends I tolerated, at the top of the water tower that overlooked the town. You could see clear to the city facing west and the Rocky Mountains on the east side. Some days we'd hop the bus to that urban jungle and sneak into movies or pilfer snacks from local convenience stores. It was all in good fun. It wasn't like we hurt anyone. We were just a bunch of rowdy kids looking for some excitement and getting high on the dangers of getting caught. Naturally, we tried to avoid that at all cost, but occasionally we'd get outsmarted by the cops that would corner us, stuff us in the back of their cars and make us sit at the local station until our parents came to get us.
Too many times I was left to be taken home by an officer when my mom or her new husband, Wade, would refuse to come get me. Of course when I got home, I was reprimanded. And I don't mean being grounded and having privileges revoked and being sent to bed to think about the trouble I caused and burdened with the guilt of being a disappointment. I mean it in the medieval sense. What happened to people in those times who stole? They lost fingers, hands, sometimes ears, and while I still have all of my body parts, many of them are scarred from the few times I was beaten with the old leather belt Wade kept just for the purpose. Sometimes he didn't even have a reason to use it, but he did anyway. Sometimes he didn't even use it and went at me with his bare hands. He used those most on my mom, though. That was the worst punishment that poor excuse for a human being ever gave me. Listening to her cries and pleas for him to stop was the worst form of torture.
No, I take that back.
The worst form of torture was watching how five minutes later she would be apologizing to him for making him angry, saying she was sorry she couldn't be better, how much she loved him and appreciated all he did for us. She worshipped him. There was one time I nearly grew sick at the sight of her falling to her knees to beg his forgiveness for something that wasn't even her fault. She literally dropped to the ground and cried at Wade's feet when he threatened to leave and take all of the money with him. It wasn't even his money. Some of it was, what he made from gambling at the track, but most of it was my mom's. Money she earned waitressing and cleaning the house of an elderly neighbor down the street.
Some of it she saved. For me. I liked animals and once a month she'd take me to the zoo in the city. Just the two of us. Those were my favorite memories. For a few hours it really felt like we were a true family. But my mom couldn't ever do the single parent thing. After my Dad left, she fell apart. I tried to be there for her, but I just wasn't enough. She needed a man to care for her, and Wade had been too much of a charmer to pass up. Don't ask me what she saw in him, because I'll never know, but she let him in our life so completely he invaded it and renamed it in the name of Wade.
Anyway, those days we spent in the zoo were some of the best. Those were the days my mom remained sober and we could enjoy the day together. I remember laughing at the monkeys, being awed by the lions and tigers, and avoiding the reptile house entirely because Mom was terrified of snakes. Too bad only the legless kind. She once told me I could go in alone and she'd wait right outside for me, but I never did. Those days were our days and I didn't want to spend a single moment of them apart because I knew that when we got home that night until our next visit, she'd be Wade's.
Those days at the zoo were the only days my mother took an interest in my life. She'd ask about school, my friends, if I had any girlfriends. I guess I probably should have known better than to think she'd keep up on that stuff, but I was just so excited that she was finally paying attention to me and taking an interest that I'd tell her some things – the good things. Of course, then we'd get home and things would go back to normal. She'd pour herself a drink, hand Wade a cold beer, and I went back to being an occasional third occupant of our shitty apartment. When he was around it was almost like I was invisible, or a nuisance. She'd send me away more often than not, telling me to go do my homework or go outside. So I did, but there wasn't much to do, so that's how I started getting into the trouble I did.
I fell into the wrong crowd. Made friends old enough to buy booze and cigarettes and dated girls old enough to probably make it illegal. They thought I was cute, what can I say. And were more than happy to teach me a thing or two about women and how they liked it. They molded me, taught me about the female body in a very hands-on way. I learned more from them than I did in any health class. But it was Wade who taught me how to treat a woman. I saw how he abused my mom, beat her down emotionally, took her for everything she had and still left her begging for more because she was so dependent on him to keep her together. Whatever he did, I learned to do the opposite. Any girl that came into my life was treated with respect and cared for to the best of my ability. Some took advantage of it, but others appreciated it, even clung to me as if I were a life boat and for one girl – I was.
A/N: The Next Step is still in progress, and there are still 2-4 more chapters to come, but I have about 4 different fanfiction stories going on right now on my tumblr that I want to share over here. They will make a gradual transition.